Chapter 11
Shortly after Ludmila completed the official procedures for handing off the leased Undead forces, their carriages arrived and they left the company captain to collect his men. The man’s relief was evident when he realised that he wouldn’t have to do so under the curious gazes of four young noblewomen.
They found their breakfast waiting for them in the cabin and settled down for the day-long journey to Engelfurt. Ludmila occasionally glanced across at Liane. Eventually, she couldn’t keep silent.
“You don’t have to look so smug,” Ludmila told her.
“I’m feeling pretty smug right now,” Liane said smugly, “so why not?”
“It isn’t fair to the men in that company,” Ludmila replied. “You’ve made them out to be elite bodyguards, but they’re just regular soldiers tasked with policing duties.”
Unlike other nations, the Baharuth Empire had a standing army that not only served in the role of national defence against foreign threats, but also functioned in the role of a gendarmerie. Each Legion of the Imperial Army had its respective territorial jurisdiction, and every division within each Legion had its domestic policing forces.
As the army couldn’t simply abandon its policing duties in times of war, the forces deployed for wars and other major operations were superior to those left behind to perform customs duties and serve in urban watches. In times of peace, assignments were rotated between all soldiers in the Imperial Legions.
There was a certain pecking order to the Imperial Legions, as well. With talent and ability came prestige and choice assignments, and the First Legion was the target for every ambitious legionnaire. Conversely, the Eighth Legion was the point of entry for those who had not distinguished themselves in any way and the Katze Marches were the former jurisdiction of the Eighth Legion. The positioning of the Eighth Legion was ideal for mustering out those unsuited for the army by testing new recruits against the seemingly limitless Undead along the southern border.
It also served as an insult towards the Kingdom of Re-Estize, which once occupied the Duchy of E-Rantel to the west – ‘our worst is good enough for the likes of you’, or something like that.
The Seventh and Eighth Legions were dissolved on paper, but that did not mean its personnel simply vanished. The forces stationed in the Katze Marches and along the Azerlisia Frontier were still transitioning to new chains of command and many of the garrisons and units responsible for maintaining public order remained as they were. Those with experience and talent who had not taken the Empire’s broad offer of careers in civilian vocations were the first to be reassigned to parts of the Empire where they could be put to better use.
As such, the ‘company’ that had arrived to receive them was composed of men who were well-equipped and had received basic training, but relegated to dead-end duties in a bottom-rung Legion that had already been stripped of its best soldiers. This was probably not within the realm of consideration for a distant bureaucratic functionary putting their seal on the paperwork – or perhaps they were using ‘expendables’ just in case something happened – so one could say that the result was to be expected.
“Don’t you think it’s an insult?” Liane said, “Sending people like that to pick up a force that can stomp the entire Empire a dozen times over.”
“Not everyone is obsessed over appearances,” Ludmila picked at her meal. “It’s the Imperial Army: they dispatched the people they thought appropriate to carry out the task, which consisted of local forces who could convey them to the next jurisdiction.”
“With the way our administration is,” Clara added, “anything that smacked of excess might have drawn the wrong sort of attention from Lady Albedo.”
Liane’s gaze slowly went from Clara to Ludmila.
“What?” Ludmila said.
“I think we’re gonna have to work on you two before we interact with anyone important in the Empire,” Liane told them.
“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Florine said.
“Maybe,” Liane replied, “but it’s better safe than sorry. We’re here on personal business, but it’s still the Empire.”
Ludmila furrowed her brow at the statement.
“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean.”
The Countess of Wagner forked a slice of sausage into her mouth before leaning back in her seat. She remained silent for several moments as she watched the landscape speed by. The other side of the border was not much different than what could be seen in the Sorcerous Kingdom: a pastoral vista of agricultural lands and the copses that provided firewood and timber to the surrounding villages. Liane washed down her food with a sip of squeezed Rain Fruit before looking back across at them again.
“The imperial nobility is every bit the nobility that you might have seen in Re-Estize,” Liane’s icy eyes glistened in the morning light. “Except the Emperor made sure that only the monsters survived. Those attempting to manoeuvre with us on the field lived through the Bloody Emperor’s rise to power and have managed to keep their positions to this day.”
“I don’t think all imperial Nobles will be like that,” Clara said. “You have the Nobles who survived because they are genuinely capable and have stayed out of unnecessary politics. There are also the new nobles who obtained their positions through distinguished service under the current Emperor’s rule.”
“Sure,” Liane admitted, “but as long as you hold any value in the arena, you’re still considered either a player or a piece. Also…power shows people for what they truly are. These newly-promoted bureaucrats aren’t like us – we’ve been raised with expectations of wielding some sort of power, either personally or through the houses we might have joined. We’ve had a long time to address any glaring problems that our families or households have noticed. The Empire’s new nobles are the most volatile part of the imperial establishment’s equation: they’ve gone from nobody to somebody, and their behaviour can go in any which way.”
Ludmila replaced the cover on her mostly-eaten breakfast, cradling her drink.
“As far as I understand it,” she said, “the Emperor has no tolerance for threats against imperial power. This…politicking sounds like precisely that.”
“The Emperor’s control over the Imperial Army ensures that any overt threats can be dealt with,” Liane said. “In a place where the nails that stick out get hammered, however, people just learn how to not stick out. The problematic great houses and members of the imperial dynasty were taken care of during Jircniv’s coup, while everyone else was already on his side in the first place or pressured into compliance. The power of the imperial throne is secure, but that doesn’t stop houses and factions from pursuing their interests and rivalries. In fact, making sure that they’re expending their resources and influence against one another is just a way for the Emperor to keep everyone under him in check.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
“I don’t think we’re going to involve ourselves in any of the local politics,” Ludmila said. “As you say, we’re here for personal reasons. I’ll be here for longer, but that time will be with the Imperial Legions.”
“Like I said: if you hold any value in the arena, you’re considered either a player or a piece. Declining to participate doesn’t mean you can’t be used. The Imperial Army isn’t any better – as a whole they may be loyal to the Emperor, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re loyal to each other.”
Would she have to deal with this sort of thing from now on? Even the slightest whiff of politics or intrigue made her want to turn around and run the other way. Ludmila frowned out of the carriage window, looking up at the overcast skies. After some thought, she sighed: if it was as inevitable as Liane made it seem, she would be better off knowing how to deal with it.
“Then what do you think we should do?” Ludmila asked.
“First,” Liane said, “you have to drop that Theocracy accent.”
“I do not see anything wrong with the way that we speak,” Clara frowned.
“You might not, but people in the Empire will look down on you as, uh…”
Liane’s voice trailed off, and she looked down at her leftovers.
“As what?”
“She was probably going to say ‘crazy zealots from the Theocracy’,” Florine filled in.
“Hey! I wasn’t…okay, maybe I was, but I was trying to figure out a better way to put it.”
“But we’re not crazy zealots from the Theocracy,” Ludmila said.
“We’re crazy zealots from the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Clara nodded.
The two city Nobles across from them blinked in unison.
“I-it’s not funny when you two say that,” Liane muttered.
“That is how people see us, yes?” Clara said, “We don’t ever intend on straying from our faith and we aren’t ashamed of it, so others can think what they will.”
Liane sighed. She drained her glass before speaking again.
“My original notion has more to do with how imperial citizens see others. They’re very proud of their Empire – they’re the most progressive and magically integrated state with all sorts of great institutions and a promising future. The Faith of the Four is the main religion there, too, so you two will be seen as unfortunate, backwards foreigners who follow an equally backwards religion. If you’re perceived as stupid and unsophisticated, that might encourage people to try something.”
“And people give us a hard time for supposedly being discriminatory,” Ludmila groused. “Can’t we just pretend to be stupid and ignore everything? Like Re-Estize, the Empire is mostly run by men so they’ll be more than happy to admire some empty-headed ornaments.”
“I don’t wanna look stupid!” Liane fumed, “That might work for when we don’t want to deal with annoying people that come our way, but Florine and I are here to find consorts. If I miss out on a good candidate because they decide I’m empty-headed…anyway, I don’t have weapons of mass destruction like Florine so I need every advantage I can get.”
Florine reached out for the knife beside her plate. Liane grabbed her wrist. They struggled for a moment before Liane ended up with the blade stuck in her palm.
“Our accents aside,” Clara said, “don’t you think that being Nobles of the Sorcerous Kingdom will supersede everything else? Looking for a consort in the Empire is bound to expose you to imperial politics, as well.”
“I’m sure it will,” Liane wiggled the knife around experimentally. “But the point is to not let people think there are any openings for them to exploit. Gaining the ear or any sort of influence with a Noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom is something that a lot of them would risk themselves for. As for our consorts…once we drag them back over the border, it won’t matter.”
“You might be worrying too much about this,” Clara said. “By all reports, the Empire is still scared to death of us. We can leverage this if we want to discourage unwelcome activities.”
“Ludmila tactics, huh…”
Liane rubbed her jaw thoughtfully. Ludmila frowned at what sounded like an unpleasant new attribution.
“Does anything good ever get named after me?”
“Don’t think so,” Liane said. “If we’re going to do it that way, we gotta be careful. I’m no good at that kinda stuff…Florine?”
“What?” Florine started at the nomination, “Why me?”
“Because you’re good at it. If you can tame all those Demihumans, imperial Nobles should only be slightly harder.”
“Clara would be the better choice,” Florine said. “Besides, she’s the ranking member between us.”
“I suppose I can come up with something,” Clara said. “By the way, are there any places we should visit in Arwintar?”
With that, their conversation took on a more casual tone. The hours passed and the ubiquitous agrarian scenery rolled by as their conversation lazily drifted from topic to topic. Clara predictably focused on the archives, libraries and historical galleries in her pursuit of the diary’s translation and links to Katze’s past. Liane wanted to visit the Imperial Ministry of Magic, but Ludmila was fairly certain that one couldn’t simply ‘visit’ a place like that.
Florine wanted a taste of the fine arts, listing several theatres and other supposedly famous venues in the capital. All three of the Merchant Nobles agreed that they should spend what Ludmila thought was an unhealthy amount of time in the city markets. As Ludmila voiced her destinations of choice, Liane raised an eyebrow.
“I figured you’d want to go to the Arena or some of the places in the military quarter.”
“I’ll have to drop by the military quarter once I start my duties here anyway…why the Arena?”
“Because it’s the Arena. You’re a martial Noble, right? Heck, you don’t even have to be one – everyone loves the Arena in Arwintar.”
“Just because I happen to fight a lot doesn’t mean that I enjoy bloodsports.”
Ludmila thought it might be educational, at best. That being said, it seemed that many members of the Adventurer Guild who acted as proctors seemed to develop a taste for watching training runs. Some even went so far as to say that it should be turned into a form of entertainment for the masses. The Guild’s proposed entry for the now-delayed harvest festival was a test to see how well it would be received by the citizens.
“You’re one of the last people I expected to want to go to the Slave Market,” Florine said. “What possessed you to think of that place?”
“Because slavery is illegal in the Sorcerous Kingdom,” Ludmila replied. “Yet the Empire hasn’t been discouraged from it.”
“That’s because we usually don’t screw around with the Empire’s business, yeah?” Liane said, “Plus it’s not as if the Royal Court went out of its way to abolish slavery – they just decided to work with the laws already in place.”
“Still, I’d like to see what’s going on. As you’ve said in the past, the Empire is a nation that has made vast improvements for its subjects. Why slavery would still exist in a supposedly progressive state is beyond me.”
“I can’t say I’m not a bit curious as to the reason, as well,” Clara said. “Also, your wanting to take a look at the Imperial Magic Academy is a good idea.”
As far as their visit to Arwintar went, the Imperial Magic Academy was Ludmila’s main point of interest. The Baharuth Empire saw great success in raising generation after generation of talented individuals through the venerable institution. It was not just something that was needed in Warden’s Vale – she felt that it would be necessary for the entire Sorcerous Kingdom.
“I’m surprised that it wasn’t the first thing you mentioned,” Ludmila replied.
“The Imperial Magic Academy is something I’m keenly interested in,” Clara said, “but at the same time it should be the subject of a much longer study.”
“That place is the Empire’s greatest weapon,” Liane agreed. “You’re not gonna unravel its mysteries just by walking around a bit, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek.”